No Matter What
by Trish Tavor
Summary: Draco struggles to find a way to complete his task for Lord Voldemort, while Daphne hates to see her friend so upset and unable to talk to anyone. A oneshot written for the Quidditch Fanfiction Competition.


A/N: This was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Team: Hufflepuff (LL)

Position: Chaser 3

Main Idea: Slytherin x Slytherin friendship

Prompts used: (setting) Prefects bathroom, (word) mirror, (emotion) shock

* * *

Draco stood in the Prefect's bathroom, hands on either side of a sink, staring at his disheveled appearance in one of the many mirrors lining the wall. His hair was a mess, the bags under his eyes were entirely noticeable, and he had certainly lost weight. Not that he himself cared anymore. The only reason it mattered was that people had started to ask questions, and he couldn't have that. Questions like –

"Are you okay?"

Jumping backwards in surprise, Draco turned. Daphne stood a few feet away from him, leaning against the tiled walls of the bathroom. She looked worried, maybe even upset.

"I'm fine," Draco responded coolly, not meaning for the words to come out like that, "What are you even doing here? How did you get in?"

A sly smile crept onto Daphne's face, and she tilted her head to study him, "How do you think? I simply followed you and heard you say the password. It wasn't exactly difficult – I am a Slytherin, after all."

"Well, you're not supposed to be here," Draco stated, feeling uncomfortable by her nearness for some reason. Despite having never – gone all the way – Draco wasn't exactly unfamiliar with girls. Though, if he was honest with himself, it might not have anything to do with her being a girl. He'd been quite deprived of any human closeness the last few months, and was beginning to feel like he'd do anything for someone to just hold him and tell him everything would be alright. _But that's stupid_, he reminded himself, _you're not supposed to be thinking things like that. You're a death eater now, not a child_. For some reason, the thought made him want to cry. Which he was _not_ going to do.

Daphne watched as all these emotions passed through Draco's eyes. It was a strange thing to see; he used to be the best out of all of them at concealing his emotions. Still was, as far as she knew. _Something must really be bothering him for his guard to be so down_, she thought, not removing her gaze.

"You're not supposed to be here," Draco repeated, feeling silly for doing so, but unable to think of anything else to say. His emotions were entirely conflicted; on the one hand, he wanted her gone more than anything. On the other hand, he didn't want her to leave. Even more than that, he desperately needed her to stay.

"Technically not, no," was Daphne's only response. She didn't remove her gaze from Draco's, and watched as first annoyance, and then discomfort passed through his gaze.

"Look, I just – " Draco began.

"Want to be alone. Yeah, I know." Daphne sighed, then tilted her head slightly, "Fine. Whatever. Shut everyone out, Draco. We're all the enemy, right?" Shaking her head, she turned to head out of the bathroom, walking slower than she normally would.

"No, wait. Stay," Draco stated, and then immediately pressed his eyes closed. _Idiot! You can't just do that. You can't show weakness; you have to be strong. Or he's going to kill your parents, your friends, and then you. And who knows what else he'll do, _Draco's mind began berating him. He began to open his eyes, to tell Daphne off, to do what he needed to do, when he felt two arms wrap around him and a head lean against his shoulder.

"It's alright," Daphne's gentle voice told him. His mind immediately shut down, and he didn't know what to do. He felt himself going weak, losing the ability to stand, and he slumped to the floor, Daphne's arms still surrounding him. And then he did something entirely unexpected. He began to sob on her shoulder, releasing all his pent up anger and frustration and fear. His fear of failure and, perhaps even greater, his fear of succeeding.

"What's going on, Draco?" Daphne finally questioned, when he had regained a semblance of control.

Draco shook his head, feeling silly for breaking down in front of her, and knowing that if he did anything else it would cost him. Perhaps his life. Perhaps – even worse – hers.

"Draco – "

"No!" Draco's voice was sharp, regaining its earlier bite, "No, Daphne. Just – just leave. Please." His voice turned to pleading on that last word, though his mixed up emotions weren't exactly sure what the _please_ had meant.

Daphne sat there beside him, eyeing him, but she didn't move, "I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong. I swear I won't tell a soul."

Draco considered this, knowing it was stupid. Knowing that even considering it was stupid. He shook his head. "I can't," he whispered, "I just can't."

"Draco, I _care_ about you, okay? Do you know how I feel when I see you in class looking like you haven't slept in weeks? Awful. And you're just making it worse by not telling anyone."

Eyeing her, Draco considered her words, and knew that they were entirely true. But it wasn't his choice. He didn't exactly _have_ a choice here. It was do or die.

But she was promising not to tell a soul.

"Not anyone, Daphne? Not _anyone_?" His voice shook, and he hated himself for the show of weakness.

"I won't tell a soul." Daphne repeated. "No one."

Draco's whole body shook, and he couldn't make it stop. He wasn't in control of anything anymore, and he despised that. Despised himself. Finally, taking a deep breath, he slowly rolled up his left sleeve, revealing the dark mark that stood out so strongly against his pale skin. The sight of it made him want to vomit.

Shock registered on Daphne's face, as her eyes studied the mark and then turned back to Draco. He felt as though she could see every part of him, everything that he had struggled so hard to conceal. And while a part of him regretted opening this up to her, another part felt relieved. As though the weight he constantly carried had been lessened somehow.

"Why?" she questioned, "Why you?"

Draco shook his head slightly, "I can't tell you."

"You've told me this much."

_She's right, _a voice in Draco's head told him_, You've told her too much already, but telling her more isn't going to change a thing._

Studying Daphne, Draco exhaled a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. And then he said the words that had curled up inside him, becoming a monster that he couldn't defeat. The words that haunted his every dream and every waking moment. The words he had no relief from. "I have to kill Dumbledore."

And in that moment, when understanding and fear washed over Daphne's face, a small moment of relief came to Draco. It wasn't much, and it didn't stay, but it was something.

"Because of your father." The words were matter-of-fact, as though everything had clicked into place in Daphne's head, and there was no other explanation. Draco simply nodded.

"And he'll – "

"Kill everyone you care about if you don't do it." She finished. It was the same tone. Matter-of-fact and filled with complete understanding. Having the words stated so plainly brought a strange sense of relief to Draco. As though it wasn't something so huge and monstrous – wasn't something he had to carry alone. It was just a simple sentence. A group of words. _You're lying to yourself_, the voice in his head told him, but he shoved it aside. He had more than enough time to dwell on those words outside of this moment.

"Yeah." The word seemed so small, not nearly enough. But it was all that Draco could think to say.

"And you're going to do it?"

Draco stared at her for a moment before speaking. Then: "I'm going to try."

Daphne studied him, biting her lower lip and looking entirely unsure of herself. Finally, "How, Draco? You're not a killer. I know you're not," she whispered, voice so quiet Draco barely made it out. But it hit him like an explosion.

"I know," he whispered back, saying aloud the words that he knew would end up destroying him. And then, looking at Daphne, he knew what he had to do. He couldn't share this burden with her; it was his to carry, alone. "But you don't have to." Draco pulled out his wand.

"What are you doing? Look, Draco, I'm your friend no matter what. _No matter what_," Daphne pleaded, unsure of what him pulling out his wand meant.

"I know," Draco stated simply, "That's why I have to do this." With a quick flick of his wand he muttered "Obliviate" and watched as a haze passed over Daphne's eyes. He stowed his wand, and after a moment her eyes cleared, and she stared up at him. Biting her lip, she met his eyes, and was silent for a moment. Then:

"Er...what were we talking about?" Daphne questioned, looking slightly confused, "Can you remind me?"

Draco grinned at her, and it was only half forced: "What else are friends for?" he responded jokingly, helping her up. She laughed, and Draco knew his spell had worked.

"Hopefully they're for a lot more than just that," she stated with a slight smile.

Draco met her eyes, feeling both the full weight of his task back upon him, but also a strange lightness that comes with friendship. He knew it wouldn't last long, but for the moment it was worth more than he could say.

"They are," he finally responded, "They honestly are."

And he meant it.


End file.
